


What Is and What Never Should Be

by adroitstories



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:04:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2032950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adroitstories/pseuds/adroitstories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zuko gets stung by a scorpio-spider, and it's deadly venom makes him hallucinate. When he wakes up, everything is different. Zutara.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Is and What Never Should Be

_“Sometimes the feeling of what could have been is stronger than what actually happened because the memory of perfection lasts longer.” –Dante Basco_

 

            “Aang! Be careful!” He heard Katara warn the monk. Zuko turned backwards slightly to inspect the group. Katara had insisted on taking a hike on Ember Island. Something about taking a break from training and getting out of the house. She seemed especially cheerful for someone who had sweat pouring down her face and dripped down her long, graceful neck. Zuko tore his gaze away from the sight.

            Ever since the Southern Raiders episode, Katara had been much gentler towards him. She’d made an effort to include him in everything, and he appreciated that. He’d never had a family where at least one person was mocking him or calling him a disgrace. Sure, these guys teased him sometimes, but they always made sure that he knew they were joking. It was nice.

            The Water Tribe girl caught up to him. “Copper for your thoughts,” she said curious. He turned away.

            “The last time I was on this path, I was with my mother,” he said quietly. His mother had always taken him on hikes. Azula hated them, so she stayed home with Ozai. Just thinking his name left a sour taste in his mouth.

            “Once this is over, we’re going to find her. You and me, okay?” Katara promised next to him. After Yon Rha, she’d asked Zuko about his mother. Haltingly, Zuko told her about that night, and his recent conversation with Ozai. Katara had been quiet, and hadn’t brought the topic up again.

            Zuko looked at her, confusion in his eyes. There were so many unknowns, so many variables. _If_ they won this war, and that was a big _if_ , there was so much that needed to be done. There was the issue of food, of unemployment, of building peace with the other nations, trying to make up for all of his forefathers’ mistakes.

            “A hundred years of war isn’t going to disappear overnight. It won’t wait for my mother, and it won’t wait for me to go on a special quest to look for her,” Zuko replied, eyes on the path ahead. There were lots of poisonous animals out here.

            “So, you don’t care what happened to her?” Katara asked, sarcastic and biting. Zuko whirled to face her. Her arms were crossed and she glared at him. He rose to her bait.

            “How dare you,” Zuko said in a low voice. “I have duties to my country, to the world!” he hissed. “I’m honor-bound to make up for the Hundred Years war, which my grandfather started and my father would end. I need to make it up to Aang for the genocide of his people and all the refugees. I-” he stopped there. Katara’s glare softened.

            “Hey, can you guys get it moving up there?” Sokka said. He took place at the very end of the group with Suki. They were kissing back there, thinking they were discreet. In Zuko’s mind, they were as discreet as a saber-tooth-moose-lion.

            Zuko swore under his breath and continued forward. He didn’t look at Katara. How dare she think he didn’t care? How dare she think that? Didn’t she know that his mother was the only one who made him feel safe? She had Sokka and her dad and the entire tribe. How could she know how one person held his whole world?

            He shook his head. Katara always set him off, whether it was in anger or revealing himself. There were even some instances that would have proved _extremely embarrassing_ if she had looked his way. His face flushed as he remembered how she moved that night, her body flowing and sensuous as she bent her element. How her eyes glowed in the moonlight, her hair cascading down the dark of her skin. He’d never realized how distracting it was before.

            Thank Agni she was oblivious to his bodily reactions. _You know Zuko, it might not be too horrible if she witnessed the effect she had on you,_ a voice that sounded like Iroh said. _You never get what you don’t ask for._

But there was a war going on. They had no time for romance. They could die. _All the more reason_ , Iroh’s voice slyly sounded in his head. But, after seeing that horrible play, Katara had ranted to him about Aang kissing her right after she’d said she was confused. He’d gotten the feeling that she didn’t want the complications of a relationship at least until the war was over. And he’d never, ever force anything on her.

            So he continued his stoicism around her. But she made it very difficult, with her face when she smiled and her laugh, how her eyes glowed when she bent and her mastery of water and her curves…

            Zuko closed his eyes, willing those thoughts to leave. Which meant he didn’t see when Aang raced ahead of him, screaming, “Quail!” He watched as Aang ran towards the unfortunate bird, and Zuko ran after him.

            “Aang! Get back here!” he yelled after the thoughtless boy. He followed the boy’s trail of broken plant matter and swishing branches until he stumbled upon the young monk.

            Aang was standing still, perfectly still, his wide gray eyes fixed on something dead ahead. Zuko followed his gaze and cursed all of Agni in his head. Of course Aang got himself into a nest of mega-scorpio-spiders. Just great. They were huge, almost half Aang’s height, and that was without their stingers. Zuko knew from his mother’s lessons that you only needed to be stung once and powerful hallucinations would follow, and after that, death.

            “Aang, don’t move,” Zuko whispered.

            “Gee, thanks, Zuko.”

            “I’m serious.” Zuko quickly assessed how many there were. At least ten, by the looks of them. “When I tell you to run, you run back to Katara, okay?”

            “But-”

            “Run!” Zuko shouted, shooting flame at the nest. The scorpio-spiders hissed and shrieked, but they weren’t scared of fire like every other animal. It was just his luck, Zuko thought as he ducked under the stinger of one. He saw Aang jump and run, and relief filled the twice-exiled prince. He tried to run himself now, but the way was blocked by some of the scorpio-spiders. He sighed and flung a fireball at them. They shrieked in pain and were incinerated, and Zuko ran over their flaming corpses. He stumbled, feeling a sudden shooting pain in his ribs, near his heart. He ran faster, trying to get to Katara. She could heal him. He heard something scuttle behind him and threw a volley of flame behind him. The scuttling stopped and he continued running, trying to find her.

            Suddenly common sense knocked right back into him. He had to stop running, otherwise the poison would travel faster. He took calming breaths, and began walking back towards the group. He tripped over a root and fell to the ground. He stood up and started again, but his legs wouldn’t move. He fell again and stayed there for a moment, stunned. But he had never given up before; he wouldn’t start now. He leaned against a tree, pushing against it for leverage. The image swam before his eyes and he suddenly couldn’t tell up from down. He sat, slumping against the tree.

            “Zuko!” he heard her call. He turned toward the sound, toward those beautiful cerulean eyes. They were the last thing he saw, wide blue eyes filled with terror and tears.

 

            Zuko awoke in his room. He sat up slowly, wary of all the red. He heard a sleepy moan from next to him, and he tensed as he drank in the sight of a woman, chocolate brown curls splayed over the pillows, dark skin a stark contrast to the white of the sheets.

            “What is it with firebenders and mornings?” she asked, voice petulant, turning to face him. Zuko couldn’t breathe.

            “Katara?” he whispered. She smiled and lightly slapped him.

            “Was it so good last night that you forgot my name?” she teased. Zuko felt himself blush and he was very aware of his lack of clothing. She giggled, “Geez, Zuko. You don’t have to act _so_ bashful all the time. I _am_ your wife.”

            “What?” Zuko asked, falling off the bed. He heard Katara laugh above him and she peered over the bed. Zuko forced his eyes to remain on Katara’s face, not…other parts of her. “Since when did we get married?”

            Katara looked at him in confusion. “We’ve been married for five years, now, Zuko,” she said slowly.

            “Did we win the war?”

            “What war?” Katara asked, genuinely concerned now. She threw off the covers and wrapped herself in a dressing gown. Zuko looked away, enchanting as that view might have been. There was something wrong. His instincts told him so. Katara knelt by him.

            “Do we have any kids?” Zuko asked in a low voice, still on the floor. Katara’s eyes widened.

            “Why would you ask that? You _know_ we have a son! How could you forget him?” she yelled, afraid now. Zuko’s heart skipped a beat. He and Katara had a child? A boy? He glanced at her. Her eyes were wide in terror. He’d seen them like that, recently. Where?

            “I’m sorry. I-I’m not well,” Zuko said slowly. He looked at her again. She was still afraid. He felt an overwhelming need to assure her everything would be okay. “Just a long day.”

            “And night,” she said, laughing nervously. Zuko flushed again. He stood and dressed.

            “Good luck in your meetings, today,” Katara said as she summoned some tea.

            “ ‘Meetings’?” Zuko asked, confused as he pulled on some of his many robes.

            “Yes, the Earth King wants to know whether you will come to his wedding, and then there’s some new tax laws to be approved, and there’s propositions for new irrigation techniques that need your money, and a few others.”

            “Shouldn’t Iroh be dealing with those?” Zuko asked again. He came out from behind the screen. Katara’s sad and confused eyes met his.

            “You’re really not well, are you?” When nothing immediately jarred in his memory, Katara stood. She touched the left side of his face…

            _…just like in Ba Sing Se…._

            Where had that come from?

            “Iroh died last year.”

            The words shook Zuko’s world. Iroh was dead?

            “You’re Fire Lord now.”

            “But what about Lu Ten?”

            Katara looked at him, despairing now. “Zuko, Lu Ten abdicated. He said that you would be a better Fire Lord.” He was suddenly aware of smooth skin she had placed a nut-brown hand on. He drew back, disbelieving.

            “Do I have a scar on my face?”

            “No, why?”

            “Huh.”

            Katara made no move to join him. “I’m calling the palace physician,” she said, hastily exiting the room. Zuko knew she could have done that from inside the room, but she had to get away from him. He walked to his office as if in a daze.

            “My lord!” one servant called. He dismissed them with a wave of his hand. He locked the door and shut it. He calmed himself through his breathing.

            Why had there been no war? Why did Iroh die? Why was Katara his wife? _How_ was Katara his wife? Where was Sokka and Aang and Suki and Toph? How old was he? Where was Ozai? Where was…

            He unlocked the door and stormed through them. He came upon a servant, cowering before him. At the moment, he didn’t care.  
            “Where is my mother?” he asked roughly. The servant answered,

            “In the kitchens, my lord.” Without another word Zuko strode towards there.

            He found her, laughing and chattering amongst the servants. Of course she would be. She was so beautiful, her raven hair streaked with silver. She had crows feet around her eyes and laugh lines on her forehead. She was still so beautiful. When she saw him, she smiled at him, and Zuko couldn’t breathe again. It was a kick to his gut.

            “Mom?” he whispered. As if sensing something was wrong, she headed over his way.

            “Yes, dear?” she asked, concern in her eyes. Zuko swallowed, then embraced his mother. She stiffened, unprepared for his crushing hug. Tears formed in his eyes. Blinking them away, he said in a brittle voice,

            “You’re-you’re here.”

            “Of course I am. Where else would I be?” she asked warmly, though a bit confused.

            “I don’t know. I had this thought-” Zuko stopped. He pulled away. “How did Grandfather Azulon die?”

            Thrown by the question, Ursa took a moment to answer. “He died in his sleep, you know that.”

            “Yeah. I just…it’s good to be home,” Zuko smiled, all feelings of wrongness having dissipated. Ursa smiled.

            “I’m glad.”

            “Where’s Ozai?” Zuko all but snarled. Ursa seemed taken aback by his tone.

            “Your Father is doing very well. He was injured in a training accident a few years ago, you know this. He was injured, and he can’t walk anymore. I’m sure he’d love to see you,” Ursa said. Zuko scoffed, and his mother looked offended.

            “Excuse you, young man. Your father loves you. He was the best father, and I couldn’t have dreamed of a better husband. You and Azula had a wonderful childhood.”

            Zuko raised his eyebrow.

            After talking with his mother for a few more minutes, Zuko went to find Katara. He’d shooed away the palace physician, insisting that he just needed a long talk with his wife to clear things up. A thrill shot through him as he referred to Katara that way. His _wife_.

            “Please, Katara. Just give me an hour of your time,” Zuko pleaded with her. Katara’s eyes searched his and found him to be genuine. She acquiesced.

So he was Fire Lord, Katara was Fire Lady. Iroh was dead. Sokka was living as Chief in the South Pole, married to Suki. They had only six children so far, and they’d been married eight years. Zuko paled when Katara said ‘only’. She’d laughed at him.

            “Toph Bei Fong?” Katara asked. She thought for a moment. “Yea, actually. She’s the ambassador for the Earth Kingdom.” Zuko’s brow furrowed.

            “Ambassador? That would be the worst job for her! I heard she had foul mouth and horrible manners. Diplomacy is not her strong suit.”

            Katara chuckled. “No, definitely not. It’s not odd, though. The Bei Fongs are quite liberal. They accept her, even though she’s blind. Not like royalty would. Royalty would be stuck up and proper. I hate those people.” Katara’s mouth twitched.

            “ _I’m_ stuck up and proper!” Zuko said huffily. “ _And_ royalty!”

            “Zuko, have you seen yourself? You’re not _proper_ at all! You’re horrible at manners and etiquette,” Katara snickered. “Not to mention you’re a cuss.”

            “I’m _nothing_ like that!”

            “Yeah, I’m _sure_ you’ve never sworn in front of small children before,” Katara said, smiling. Zuko thought of a bald monk and a cranky blind girl wistfully.

            “Is Aang around?”

            “ _Avatar_ Aang?” Katara thought. “Yes, actually. You remember he’s the one who set us up?”

            “What?”

            “We were both at the yearly International Peace Summit. He’s the one who duped us into dancing with each other. Then he walked off, saying I was your ‘forever girl’ or something. He had this weird look in his eye as he said that.”

            “Smart guy,” Zuko breathed, thanking all the Sprits. Suddenly a voice called to him,

            “Zuko! Zuko, wake up!”

            “What was that?” Zuko asked, leaping to his feet. He narrowed his eyes and looked around, determined to flush them out. He glanced back at Katara. She had that scared look in her eye.

            “Zuko, what are you talking about?”

            “There was a noise…”

            “I didn’t hear anything.”

            “Nothing?”

            “No.” Katara was looking at him again. “Maybe you should go back to bed. I think you’re coming down with something.”

            An aching tiredness suddenly swept over him at those words, and he nodded.

            “Whoa, Zuko,” Katara said, suddenly very close to him. He was on the couch. Did he faint?

            “Okay, you’re going to bed. Now. No excuses,” Katara commanded.

            “As you wish.”

            “You’re going back to sleep.”

            “As you wish.”

            “I’m going to commission all the money to include Water Tribe symbols.”

            “As you wish.”

 

            When Zuko opened his eyes, he stared into Katara’s worried face. Tears flowed from her eyes and she grinned.

            “Zuko? I thought we’d lost you.”

            “Katara?”

            “I’m here.” He was floating. Why was he floating? Zuko heard chattering voices, mumbled and confused. Milky green eyes shone above him.

            “So you’re alive, Sunshine. Had these guys worried for a while. I wasn’t worried at all.”

            “Great, Champ.” Zuko’s voice was weak, even to him.

            “Hey, I make the nicknames around here, Sunshine.”

            But he was slipping. The world turned black and he heard screams and shouts.

 

            Zuko woke up again in his room, Katara next to him, dark body pressed up against his pale one. The sun was rising again.

            “Can’t you sleep in for once? You slept all day yesterday,” Katara whined good-naturedly as she felt his warmth leave her. He didn’t answer, and Katara sat up. “What’s wrong?”

            “What happened in the last hundred years? Was there a war, a genocide? Are the Air Nomads still alive?”

            “No, there was no genocide. No war. The Air Nomads are still there, as far as I know,” Katara said softly.

            “No, that’s not right! There was a war! I hunted the Avatar, and Azula almost killed him! I-” he looked shocked as he realized what role he had played in Katara’s life. “I betrayed you. I betrayed your trust-”

            “You would never do that,” Katara said next to him. “You would never do that. And if you did, I’d knock you flat, anyways. Waterbending master, remember?” Katara half smiled at him, but Zuko wasn’t in a smiling mood.

            A child’s cry startled them both. Katara walked over to the crib in the corner. How had Zuko not noticed the crib?

            “Hey, sealpuppy,” Katara cooed at the child. There was a giggle and Zuko’s heart leapt. Was that-

            “Here’s something that should jog your memory. I brought him in here last night.” Katara walked back to their bed. She held up a little boy, swaddled in purple cloths. “He was fussy last night. He wanted to see you.” Katara placed the bundle in his arms. Zuko tried to protest, but Katara would have none of it.

            He was beautiful, Zuko thought. Wide blue eyes stared up at him, and his skin was lighter than Katara’s, though it was darker than his own. A fuzz of black hair decorated his otherwise bald head. He opened his mouth and babbled happily, strings of meaningless syllables rolling off his tongue.

            His child. How could he forget his child? The child he loved, the child of the woman he loved.

            “He’s got Sokka’s nose, see? And he’s got Azula’s ears,” Katara pointed out. “Azula is an ambassador to the Northern Water Tribe for us. She’d never hurt the Avatar. Not that she’d be any match for him, anyways. _You_ could take her down, no problem.”

            “What color are her flames?”

            “Orange, like every other firebender.”

 

            He kept hearing the voice, following him. It sounded like Katara’s voice, other times Toph’s or Aang’s. How did he know what Toph’s and Aang’s voices sounded like? The message was always the same, or along the same lines.

            “Come back!”

            “We need you.”

            “You need to face your father and Azula!”

            “Wake up.”

            “You need to teach me firebending, Sifu Hotman!” Granted, that one was odd.

            “You can’t die now!” But he wasn’t dying. He was perfectly healthy. He had a child, a son, who was blessedly healthy. Katara was fine. Why would he be dying right now?

            “Who are you?” he finally yelled back to the voices. He received silence in return and a few stares from the servants. He apologized quickly.

           

            Nothing helped but sleep, and sleep made everything more confusing. He dreamed he was with a younger version of Katara and Aang, and Sokka and Suki and Toph. How did he know them? They were always watching him, hopeful and wary.

            “We’re in a war, buddy. You can’t die on us now,” Sokka said. War? Yes, war! The absurdly stupid war! “You have to wake up.”

 

            Zuko woke with a start. Katara stirred next to him. “What is it?”

            “Nothing. Go back to bed.” She did not go back to sleep as he began dressing himself.

            “What’s wrong?”

            “I need to visit my Uncle.” He saw Katara’s eyes shine with understanding, and she went back to bed.

            He walked to the Dragon Bone Catacombs. It was disturbing and creepy, even with no war. He walked to the correct chamber and input a combination, and the doors swung in. Inside was a pedestal, and on the pedestal was his Uncle’s ashes. Zuko closed the door. He was silent. Then words seemed to tumble out of his mouth.

            “We’re in the middle of a war. There have been casualties. Lu Ten died! But you’re not actually dead. Well, I mean you’re dead here, but not there. Ughh, let me start again.”

            Zuko took a deep breath. “This… this is all a dream, Uncle. And right now, we’re in the middle of an Agni-damned war. So many people died. Lu Ten. Grandfather. All the airbenders. Katara’s mom,” he thought suddenly. “Azula and my father want to take over the world! And they have the power to do it. They _can_ do it. But I’m not going to let them.

            “But here,” Zuko trailed off, reminiscing. “Here, I’m _happy_. I have a son, dammit. I have a _son_ with _the woman I love_. But none of it’s real.

            “But why? Why can’t this be reality? Why can’t we be happy? Why do we have to be in a war?” Zuko knew he sounded childish, but he didn’t care. He shouted at the urn, “Why did it have to be _my family_ that screwed up!? Why do _we_ have to save the world!? And Katara’s mom can’t live her life?! Katara can’t have a normal childhood? Toph’s family can’t love her? Aang can’t be with his people? I don’t have to be _banished and scarred_?! Uncle, why do _we_ have to be the heroes?”

            His voice cracked on the last word, and Zuko steadied himself. He felt like the urn was judging him. He wiped a tear from his left eye. “I know,” he said, thinking of what Iroh would say to him. He turned away and walked out.

 

            He walked towards the pier. He thought he knew why he felt like he was floating in his dreams before. It had something to do with scorpio-spiders and Katara being a healer. His very last reservations gone, he dived in.

 

            He awoke, for real this time, out on the beach. He opened his eyes and glowing water encased him. He vaguely made out Katara’s eyes outside the water, and the glow faded. He tried to breathe, but he just sucked water into his lungs.

            “Whoa there, Zuko. Take it easy,” her soothing voice instructed him. She bent water out of his lungs and he could breathe again. He coughed, some excess water lingering in his throat, then relaxed. He stood and walked off.

            “What, I don’t even get a thank you?”

            “Thank you, Katara.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave reviews or constructive criticism.


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